1980s Elsinby: A Good Girl's a Bad Girl Who Hasn't Been Caught
by ThePennyTealeaf
Summary: First of a series of oneshots about the younger generation in 1980s Elsinby, the fictional town featured in The Royal. In this 'episette' Aisling Ormerod, now 15, struggles with the trials of growing up in a flagging seaside town where trouble lies just around the corner.


_NOTE FROM AUTHOR_

 _After the success of my re-imagining of The Royal, taking the characters twenty years on to the 1980s, I've decided to share my initial drafts, simply titled ELSINBY, after the fictional town featured in the ITV series._

 _This features the younger generations of the town who are now all grown up as teenagers; Aisling and Jonathan Ormerod, Philip Bellamy Jnr and new family, The Smythes, particularly their youngest son, Gary._

 _Follow their stories as they learn about love, life and growing up in a seaside town. These are all written in Script form. I'm not a professional so please don't expect too much._

 _Now, sit back and enjoy!_

 _ThePennyTealeaf_

 **STORY ONE: "A Good Girl's A Bad Girl Who Hasn't Been Caught"  
**

Upperton Park Grammar school, Elsinby. Pupils are seen rushing out of the school, throwing papers, celebrating. It is the last day of the summer term.

We see AISLING, JONNY, GARY and PHILIP hurrying out of the two school entrances AISLING, JONNY and GARY from the main entrance, PHILIP from the side entrance. PHILIP leads the way, stopping at the open gates. JONNY and GARY follow suit with AISLING trailing behind. Jonny is quite small in build despite being sixteen. Aisling is fifteen, petite with a slim athletic build and dark hair-almost a replica of her mother, Moira. Philip, or Phil as he prefers to be known, is the image of his father, but with his mother's eyes.

The group clusters around the gates, trying to avoid the stampede of excited students as they toss papers in the air and rush past them determined to escape the school. Aisling trails behind the boys, overloaded with a violin case and tennis racket in addition to a large clunky satchel.

AISLING:

Wait for me!

JONNY:

We're always waiting for you slow coach!

AISLING:

Well, its not my fault, is it, now? You don't have to haul a violin case and tennis bag around with you!

[She stops and takes a moment to relieve herself of the violin case and tennis bag, chucking it to the ground]

PHIL:

Why don't you just tell your parents you hate tennis and Violin?

AISLING:

Oh yeah, and have them lecture me about it being a waste of money and resources...I don't think so. [slams bag down] we're not waiting for anyone else, are we?

GARY:

Nope, obviously you saved the best til last [winks]

JONNY:

So, schools out what shall we do this summer? Don't know about you lot, but I've had enough of old 'Bickkers' this term, and need to let my hair down!

AISLING:

Yeah right. You're trying to act all cool, Jonny boy. You're fooling no-one. I know you signed up for extra tuition with 'Bickkers'.

JONNY:

That's not fair Ash!

AISLING:

Don't call me that. You know I hate it.

JONNY:

Well, sor-ry. I fancy heading down to Turpin Bay.

AISLING:

Yawn. [fake yawn]

I want to try out the new climbing wall in the sports centre. It looks so much fun! Not to mention dangerous! But I expect Mam and Dad would have a fit if I did. [puts on posh accent] Oh no, Aisling, why don't you try something a little more academic? As if it isn't bad enough doing music practice. Its all your fault, Jonny boy![punches brother playfully]

JONNY:

How is it my fault?

AISLING:

You commandeered the table to do pottery so they had me glued to the piano. I hate the piano. I hate the violin, come to think of it. [to JONNY] Can't you do my tennis lessons? [groans] can I have a Rolo? [to PHIL]

JONNY:

Why would I want to do tennis lessons? I've got enough to do as it is. You know Dad's expecting me to enter the Junior Golf tournament this weekend?

AISLING:

Good job you got the trousers for it! I thought you were going to try and get tickets to see Ausperity? That flim flam band you like?

JONNY:

They're not 'flim flam'! They're progressive rock.

AISLING:

Give me Nick Heyward any day. [sighs] Er, Phil, can I have a Rolo?

PHIL:

I think I saw Ausperity at The Futurist.

AISLING

seriously? You don't go there, do you?

PHIL:

They have some good bands on.

AISLING:

Didn't count you as a music lover [nudges him] so, Jonny, are you going to do my tennis lessons or do I have to skive off?

JONNY:

Why don't you just tell Mum and Dad that you hate tennis? I just don't see the problem? Just tell them you want to do something more active.

AISLING:

Like the climbing walls at the indoor arena?

JONNY:

[laughs] you know Mum and Dad won't let you climb, so better get used to a career as a world class violinist

AISLING:

Why can't I climb? I'm good at gymnastics, really, I am. [Showing off to Phil by standing on her head] you see! And I'm _still_ waiting for a Rolo, Philly!

PHIL:

What is it with girls, always wanting what you can't have! You should count yourself lucky. Violins, pianos...

AISLING:

You want to do it instead? Feel free.

PHIL:

Yeah. Right, no thanks. I think I'll stick with my Cadet stuff.

AISLING:

You're really gonna be a police officer?

PHIL:

My dad was.

AISLING:

Sorry. I forgot. Foot in mouth.

PHIL:

Hey, don't worry about it. Ancient history now.

AISLING:

Yeah but, your Mam...

PHIL:

She's cool with it.

AISLING:

So you're really leaving us?

PHIL:

Yeah. Time for me to see whats out there. I'm going to Leeds.

GARY:

Leeds? Wow, mate.

AISLING:

But that's like...

PHIL:

Its not that far.

GARY:

Mate? Well done. [high fives PHIL] have you told your Mum?

PHIL:

No. Not yet. I'm waiting for the right moment.

GARY:

Don't wait too long, yeah?

PHIL:

I won't. [looks at the ROLO packet in his hand] Anyone want one?

AISLING:

Yeah me. I said ages ago but you weren't listening, were you?

GARY:

That's right, weren't you showing off your gymnastics?

JONNY:

She was showing off something else.

AISLING:

Hey! Don't gang up on me!

JONNY:

Look, Mum and Dad are gonna wonder where you are.

AISLING:

Sure they are. I've got tennis lessons, right, Jonny?

JONNY:

I'm not covering for you this time.

AISLING:

Did I say you should?

JONNY:

No, but, just be careful, okay, Aisling.

AISLING:

You see this is the thing about having a big brother. They want to baby you all the time. Just encase Mammy and Daddy interrogate him about not looking after his little sis. You're too kind, Jonny boy. [slaps his arm playfully] Right, now that's sorted. Want to see me do a trick?

BOYS:

Yeah!

([AISLING performs a complicated gymnastic move])

AISLING:

Ta da!

GARY:

Great. Respect to you, Aisling.

PHIL:

[to AISLING]

Here take it [offers Rolo playfully] You earned it.

AISLING:

[stuffs Rolo in mouth upside down]

you see! Surely that qualifies me! You're impressed, aren't you? [looks hopeful as her cheeks flush]

GARY:

I suppose its quite impressive, what d'you say, Phil?

PHIL:

Its alright I suppose, for a girl!

AISLING:

Told you I could do it!  
[performs seamless cartwheel]

(  
[GARY chucks her the Rolo packet with last one in])

AISLING:

Aw, that's so sweet. Jonny, Gary's giving me his last Rolo. I'm touched, Gary. [smiles and swings her violin case over her shoulder, knocking Jonny with it]

JONNY:

Oi, watch it!

AISLING:

Whoopsie! (smacks tennis bag against his other leg) sorry, Jonny boy. Perhaps you should get off home now? I'm a big girl. I can look after myself!

GARY:

Its okay, Jonny. I'll look after her. I mean, we'll look after her, won't we, PC Bellamy?

PHIL

Don't call me that.

GARY:

Sorry, mate, didn't mean any offence.

PHIL:

Its alright. I'll, see you later.

([walks off])

JONNY:

I should probably go too. I'll take your cases home if you want, Aisling?

AISLING:

I do want. But how are you going to explain that to Mam and Dad? That I went to Tennis without my sodding racket?

JONNY:

Yeah. You're right. I'll take the violin. Don't be too late. You know how they worry.

AISLING:

Don't remind me. Now, are you going or not?

JONNY:

Yeah, yeah, alright! I know my place. Don't want to play gooseberry to you two.

AISLING:

See ya later, bro.

JONNY:

See you at home.

([walks off])

AISLING:

Jeez, is he my brother or my father? [rolls eyes] Never mind, right? Schools out and FUN is in! So, where are we going?

GARY:

Thought we could check out the beach, and maybe sneak into Icicle one night. They play good music. Then there's always the Futurist Club, but that's a bit...you know...grimy.

AISLING:

The Futurist? Didn't Stacie Appleby go there last week? She was bragging about it in Maths class!

GARY:

Dunno. Stacie Appleby goes everywhere by all accounts.

AISLING

Yeah, cos she doesn't have pesky parents keeping her on tabs 24/7. Her parents respect her as an adult.

GARY:

Yeah right! You don't seriously believe everything she says?

AISLING:

Its plausible, en't it?

GARY:

I s'pose. [shrugs] so, what d'you wanna do? There's always the beach...

AISLING:

The beach? Have you seen the sand on Turpin Bay? Its black. I want to go somewhere with soft, yellow sand and crystal blue water.

GARY:

Well you better wait until I'm a rich engineer, until then I'll get us some chips and we can walk along the prom. The bridge en't far either.

AISLING:

Lets get some chips now. I got rid of the brother. Just you and me, how about it, Gary? What time do your parents get home?

GARY:

About six, come on then let's go back to mine. My dad has some Carling and mum has some Babycham if you fancy a drink to celebrate our freedom!

AISLING:

Sounds great to me.

GARY:

Think Sarah is on nightshift so we should be alright.

Aisling

I've only ever been allowed a sip of wine. Mams particular about that.

GARY:

Its the holidays, we are free to do whatever, don't be a square!

AISLING:

I'm not. She doesn't know about the Guinness I swigged behind the shed. What does your sister do?

GARY:

She's started working at the hospital up there on t'Esplanade, some kind of cleaner I think, she will be a doctor one day, but she is repeating her C.S.E's at night school, only room in this family for one brain box (playfully elbows her)

AISLING:

Not including yourself [smiles coyly] my parents used to work at The Royal. They probably know her!

GARY:

She's only just started, so if they could put a word in for her.

AISLING:

You could try [scoffs] bet your folks are sweet as pie. Lets go, show me the way to go home, Gary.

GARY:

Yeah they're alright I s'pose.

AISLING:

Well, what are you waiting for, Gary... [walks past him flirty]

GARY:

Let's go!

( [Runs alongside her  
[they playfully race to Gary's house]

SCENE TWO: THE MERS, SURPORT PARADE (LOWER END OF TOWN)

[Gary's house is on an estate of 1950s council houses set back on a row, each varying in decoration and condition. The furthest to the end of the row is the most presentable, with neat new leaded windows and a pair of gates at the entrance]

AISLING:

Wow...nice place. You've got gates! Nice touch!  
[climbs on gates]

GARY:

Yep (Proudly) only ones on the estate

AISLING:

Is your mother posh or something? Is she one of these that likes shoes off on the front porch?

GARY:

Erm, yes can you take your shoes off [blushes] she's kind of particular.

AISLING:

Oh yeah, like To The Manor Born?

[GARY smiles and opens the front door]

INT. SMYTHE SITTING ROOM.

The Smythes sitting room is open plan, filled with frills and knick knacks. Almost everything is pink and very regal looking. There are photos in gold frames around the TV and a deep swirly carpet. Aisling can't disguise her surprise.

AISLING:

Sure. Okay. (steps inside) whoa. Your mum obviously likes decorating. I mean...its lovely. Not to my tastes of course, I don't live here. You should see our house. I don't know WHAT they were thinking, you know.

GARY:

What way?

AISLING:

Well, its so orange, orange walls, orange cupboards, brown carpet, purple sofa, mismatched ornaments and...preserve me! Your TV! its huge! You've got a real TV. With a remote!

GARY:

Doesn't everyone?

AISLING:

Not in our house. I asked for Atari for Christmas and you'd have thought I was talking Japanese. Mam said "oh, right, Aisling, well, we'll have to see about that." Father, that is, my dad, just looked confused. He spends a lot of his time like that. Isn't interested unless its golf or work. Besides which they bought our TV in the 70s. Its just lucky its got colour. They're not really, what you'd call, modern.

GARY:

Well, we only got ours last year. Mum insisted. So me dad gave in. She likes to watch Neighbours.

AISLING:

I bet your dad's a real dad, is he?

GARY:

What do you mean 'real dad'?

AISLING:

Well, someone who spends time with ye, takes you to footie, you know. Takes an interest in ye.  
[looks deep into his eyes]

GARY:

My dads the best, used to take me footie until mum put pay to that. Why, whats yours like?

AISLING:

I guess he's okay, you know. He's not my real dad. I'm adopted.

GARY:

Does it make a difference?

AISLING:

Well, yeah, it does. I'm not like them.

GARY:

But they still brought you up, didn't they?

AISLING:

Yeah, but I'm Irish by descent. Only met my Auntie a few times. She's the Matron at the hospital.

GARY:

Well, you're lucky to have that. I'm not saying I don't love my parents, I do, but I don't have anything in common with them. Except football. That's only with my dad. [scuffs shoe across carpet]

AISLING:

Oh? I'm sorry, Gary. I didn't mean to pry. You know what its like, I speak before I think.  
[shrugs awkwardly]

GARY:

Its Ok. My mum thinks football is for louts and hooligans. She doesn't really approve of me dad.

AISLING:

Its not, our Tom used to play it all the time and he's thoroughly middle class. I guess you think we're all posh up on South Cliff.

(  
[laughs])

GARY:

Doesn't that make you middle class too? [laughs] I think we are all the same. No one is better than anyone else. Wish my mum could see it.

AISLING:

Really? We're the same? What'll she think about you bringing an Irish leprechaun to her door?  
[flutters eyelashes]  
[looks mischievous]

GARY:

What she don't know, don't hurt her.

AISLING:

You'll take that risk, Gary Smythe? For me?  
[looks hopeful]

GARY:

Of course

[GARY leans in to kiss her]

AISLING:

Then show me.  
(Keys jangle in the lock)

SARAH:

Gary? Are you home? I'm back! Look at the state of this place, Mums gonna throw a fit when she sees this...oh, brought a friend home?

[AISLING and GARY stand inches apart, looking shifty]

GARY:

You're back early.

SARAH:

Yes, I swapped shifts for night school.

GARY:

Ah, right. [scratches the back of his head awkwardly] uh, Sarah, this is...

AISLING:

I'm Aisling. Aisling Ormerod.

SARAH:

Your brother works at the hospital?

AISLING:

That's right. Adoptive brother, that is.

SARAH:

Oh right. Nice to meet you, Aisling. I'm so sorry, but I've got to hurry. Can't go to evening class looking like this.

GARY:

Sarah's doing her exams again to be a nurse.

AISLING:

That's great! I don't envy you though. I struggle with science as it is.

SARAH:

So, not to be rude but what are you doing here, Aisling?

AISLING:

Studying.

SARAH:

Last day of term? [looks to GARY] I believe you.

GARY:

Sorry, Saz, its just that I wasn't expecting...

SARAH:

Me to come home so early. I have a good idea what you had in mind, Gary Smythe. Don't worry, I'm not going to tell Mum. But you'd best get out of here before she gets home and finds this place in a tip.

GARY:

Wise words.

SARAH:

What can I say, I'm a good sister? Right, I have to get ready. Oh and Gary, don't even think about checking the fridge for alcohol, you won't find any. You won't find much come to think of it.

GARY:

Thanks sis.

SARAH:

My pleasure. Nice to meet you, Aisling.

AISLING:

Yeah. You too. Good luck and all.

SARAH:

Thanks. Think I'm gonna need it. The studying is the hardest part.

GARY:

Better than mopping floors, though, eh?

SARAH:

I'll get there, don't you worry. Mum might scoff.

GARY:

She scoffs at everything. I shouldn't worry about it.

[door opens and MRS SMYTHE enters. Prue Smythe is a blonde woman in her mid forties, dressed as exuberantly as she can in a sequinned butterfly top and white jeans]

MRS SMYTHE:

Goodness me, whats going on here?

SARAH:

Hi Mum, Gary's brought a friend home from school.

MRS SMYTHE:

I see. Aren't you going to introduce us, Gary? Remember, manners?

GARY:

Er yeah. [looks to SARAH for help]

SARAH:

[gestures to AISLING]

GARY:

Yeah, right. Mum, this is Aisling, she's in my class.

[SARAH mouths 'nice one' before heading upstairs]

MRS SMYTHE:

[With false kindness] Ah. Very nice to meet you, dear. Aisling's an Irish name, isn't it?

GARY:

Mum...

MRS SMYTHE:

[Sharply] I'm only asking her a question, Gary.

AISLING:

Yes, You're right, Mam. It's an Irish name. I'm named after my Aunt.

MRS SMYTHE:

[dismissive] How appropriate, dear. So, have you come far?

AISLING:

Oh, no, we live up on South Cliff. My parents worked at the hospital so its all local to us.

MRS SMYTHE:

The hospital you say?

AISLING

Yes, they're both doctors.

MRS SMYTHE

[warmly] well, welcome to our home, Ashley.

AISLING:

Its Aisling. But no matter. Gary and I were just going out, weren't we, Gary?

GARY:

Yeah, that's right. Meeting the others at the Harbour Bar.

MRS SMYTHE:

Oh how disappointing. Well, I suppose its alright with me. Have you asked Ashley's parents, Gary?

GARY:

Its not a date, Mum. We're just hanging out.

MRS SMYTHE:

Like your trousers I see. Tut tut. Shall I give your parents a call, dear? I don't want them to worry.

AISLING:

No! [Retracting] I mean, no, there's no reason to bother them. They'll probably be on call or something. Dad might even be on the golf course.

MRS SMYTHE:

The golf course? You mean Gatewaite Golf and Country Club?

AISLING:

Yes, he's a member. [smiles at GARY]

MRS SMYTHE:

So what does your mother do whilst your father is...engaged in his activities?

AISLING:

Runs charity events and all sorts. All on behalf of the hospital. She's good like that.

MRS SMYTHE:

[gushing] How wonderful! To have two such admirable people as parents, I see you do tennis lessons too?

AISLING:

Yes.

MRS SMYTHE:

Well I've always been a keen supporter of local charities, I've hosted bring and buy sales and my fair share of charity events I can tell you. Tell your mother I'd be delighted to help out if she needs anything.

AISLING:

Thanks I will.

MRS SMYTHE:

I wonder if I could persuade my husband to don a Pringle jumper and give the golf a try?

GARY:

Dad loves his football, Mum, you know that.

MRS SMYTHE:

He could always try something new. No harm in it. [To AISLING] Perhaps your father could recommend a good course for a beginner.

AISLING:

I don't really see him that much to be honest, Mam, but I'll be sure to ask him.

MRS SMYTHE:

Oh please do. What did you say your surname was, dear?

AISLING:

Ormerod.

MRS SMYTHE:

Of course! Everyone knows Dr Ormerod! How could I have forgotten! He used to do his housecalls to my dear old Ma. What a gentleman. What a prized gentleman.

AISLING:

Yeah. That's him.

MRS SMYTHE:

And your mother is his second wife, I take it?

GARY:

Mum...

AISLING:

Not exactly, Mrs Smythe, you see, I'm adopted. The Ormerods are my adoptive parents.

MRS SMYTHE:

[shocked, then disappointed]Oh, oh I see.

AISLING:

I mean, they're great parents and I've got lovely brothers and sisters...

MRS SMYTHE:

That's good. [No longer interested] Gary, didn't you say you wanted to take Ashley to the Harbour Bar?

GARY:

Yes. Thanks Mum.

MRS SMYTHE:

I think I'll make a start on dinner. Lovely to meet you, dear.

AISLING:

You're not going to call my Mam then?

MRS SMYTHE:

I don't see any reason to, dear. You go on and enjoy yourselves.

GARY:

Come on, Aisling.

[leads her out of the house. They stand in the front garden/drive]

GARY:

I'm sorry.

AISLING:

What about?

GARY:

About my Mum.

AISLING:

Don't worry. I'm used to people thinking ill of me. Its part of my culture.

GARY:

You shouldn't let it get to you, though.

AISLING:

I don't. I know all about what the kids call me behind my back at school, "Leprachaun", "Traitor", "Shamrocker" they're only parroting what their parents say.

GARY:

Yeah, well it en't right, you know.

AISLING:

Thanks Gary. Its sweet of you to say so.

GARY:

Shall we get some chips? I'm starving?

AISLING:

Whatever you like. Ye don't need to ask my permission. I'm not your Mother.

GARY:

I know. Sorry and all that.

AISLING:

Don't be. I was only joking.

GARY:

Aisling...you know...I really like you.

AISLING:

Course I do. Jonny's been teasin' me about it since I can remember.

GARY:

But you need to know...my cousin, he was...injured in an IRA attack.

AISLING:

What?

GARY:

He was injured, thrown, by the blast.

AISLING:

I'm sorry. I really am [serious]

GARY:

I just thought you should know. Me Mam has her opinions and one of them is that, well, Irish people should take responsibility for their own.

AISLING:

But I'm nothing to do with it. I was born here, here in this place. It was my adoptive mother who delivered me. I'm not a Loyalist, but I'm not a traitor either. I guess your Mam's mind is made up and I can't change that.

GARY:

I want this to work.

AISLING:

How can it? You just said she doesn't trust Irish people, well, like it or not, my real mother was Irish.

GARY:

We can still...

AISLING:

Lets just get some chips. I can't think straight.

GARY:

You're on!

AISLING:

Fancy a milkshake instead?

GARY:

You twisted my arm. Come on then!

[they head to the The Harbour Bar]

THE HARBOUR BAR

The HARBOUR BAR is the main hangout for the teens of ELSINBY. The music, around twenty years out of date plays in the background as the students from schools around the town jostle for tables. AISLING and GARY arrive late to the party where all the students are celebrating the last day of term.

GARY:

Shall we go somewhere else? We en't gonna find a table in here?

AISLING:

Just watch me. There's Harry Ryan!

[AISLING waves at HARRY and runs over to the table in the corner, where most of the students from her class are seated. GARY follows quietly behind, preferring to remain in the background. One of the girls, JULIE CLARK, is very unhappy with HARRY's response to AISLING]

JULIE:

Look out, everyone, here comes trouble!

GIRL:

Least she's not with Phil, did you hear the rumour about him…?

AISLING:

Hi everyone, what's happening?

JULIE:

You just arrived.

AISLING:

Is that green makeup you're wearing, Julie Clark, or did someone sneeze on your eyelids?

JULIE:

What did you say?

AISLING:

Nothing much. Hi Harry, hope you don't mind me and Gary crashing in?

HARRY:

Jonny not with you then?

AISLING:

I can take care of myself, thanks, Harry. You know Gary, he's in Bickker's class.

HARRY:

Yeah, I know you.

GARY:

We know each other alright, Aisling. [looks angry]

AISLING:

Great. So what are you lot having?

JULIE:

We were having a private conversation til you came along. But if you're offering to buy us all ice cream, I'm sure you can join us.

AISLING:

I don't really have any money.

JULIE:

Aww, pity. And there was all of us thinking that you were rolling in it.

AISLING:

What's that supposed to mean?

JULIE:

Well, only snobs live up on South Cliff. They're like royalty. I bet Mammy and Daddy were really worried about you and your brother mixing with us.

AISLING:

You don't need to. I'm adopted.

[COLLECTIVE GASP FROM STUDENTS]

JULIE:

So what, you're a mongrel?

AISLING:

Yeah, if you want to put it like that.

JULIE:

And your adoptive parents still spend money on you? Even though you're a scrounger?

HARRY:

Ease off, Jules.

JULIE:

All this time you've convinced us that you're better than us and you're nothing more than scum. Bet your Mam couldn't wait to get shot of you. Mind you, she were probably scum herself.

[AISLING STARTS AT JULIE. GARY tries to restrain her]

GARY:

Stop it, Ash!

AISLING:

Let go! I'm gonna rip her hair out!

[THE STUDENTS CHEER THE GIRLS ON. THE WAITRESS NOTICES AND ATTEMPTS TO BREAK UP THE FIGHT]

WAITRESS:

AY ay ay! That's enough now! Pack it in, both o'you!

AISLING:

She started it!

WAITRESS:

Well I'm ending it! You can all clear off now, all of you! Not having this in here! Its always the same, every bloody end of term. Debra, can you clear up, here, please. Now, I want your name and yours. [she addresses AISLING and JULIE] Nice girls don't fight.

AISLING:

She said my Mam was scum.

JULIE:

I didn't.

WAITRESS:

I don't care who said what. Now, your names?

AISLING:

Aisling.

WAITRESS:

Aisling what?

AISLING:

You're not gonna call my parents, are you?

WAITRESS:

I'm afraid I'll have to. There's damage here.

AISLING:

I can pay for it. Please. Don't call them.

JULIE:

You can't even afford a Sundae, let alone a table.

WAITRESS:

Is that aright?

AISLING:

Well, yeah, sort of. I can pay you back bit by bit.

GARY:

I've got a fiver. [he holds up a note] call it a deposit.

WAITRESS:

There's no deposit, lad. This doesn't concern you, anyhow.

GARY:

She's my friend.

WAITRESS:

I wasn't born yesterday, laddie. I know when someone's trying to pull t'wool over my eyes.

GARY:

Really, she's my friend. Look, we'll come in tomorrow, or we'll stay late and clean up.

WAITRESS:

Your parents should be told. I've never seen the like of it. Girls scrapping like this. You're as bad as t'lads. [thinking] Well, if you get this place cleared up before closing time, I suppose I needn't call your parents.

DEBRA:

I've done most of it, Mrs Patterson...t'ent much to do.

WAITRESS:

Oh aye, thank you, Debra.

DEBRA

No problem.

WAITRESS:

So what am I to do with the pair o' yous?

JULIE:

You can let me leave for a start.

WAITRESS:

You're as much to blame as this lass here. I'm sorry, but I can't and I won't have loutish behaviour in here.

GARY:

I'm sorry things got out of hand. It won't happen again.

DEBRA:

Please, Mrs Patterson, someone called the police.

[OFFICERS enter the restaurant]

OFFICER 1:

We had reports of a disturbance.

WAITRESS:

Just young uns, nothing serious.

OFFICER 1:

So, what has been going on?

WAITRESS:

Well, a little scrap but nothing I can't handle.

OFFICER 1:

Involving these young people, am I correct?

WAITRESS:

In a way, yes.

OFFICER 1:

We take any reports of violence very seriously. So, can you tell me what happened?

WAITRESS:

It were high spirits what descended into a little scuffle. You know how it is, last day of term and all that.

OFFICER 1:

Even so, Ma'am, its our duty to investigate any reports we may receive. So, who did this so-called scuffle involve? Names?

AISLING:

Aisling Moira Ormerod.

JULIE:

Julie Vera Clark.

AISLING:

Vera?

JULIE:

Yes, got a problem with that?

AISLING:

No, its just...wow, Julie VERA Clark. You kept that quiet.

JULIE:

Shut up, Kindling.

AISLING:

You shut up.

OFFICER 1:

Ay ay ay, I see now. Right, names of next of kin, please?

AISLING:

You're not going to tell our parents, are you?

OFFICER 1:

I'm afraid they'll need to come down to the station.

AISLING:

Oh God.

GARY:

We didn't mean it to go this far, really, Constable. We've apologised to Mrs Patterson, can't you just caution us?

OFFICER 1:

So you were involved too? Name?

GARY:

Gareth Clarence Smythe.

OFFICER 1:

Next of kin?

GARY:

Prudence Anne Smythe. Or actually, better be Barry Smythe, my dad.

OFFICER 1:

Address?

GARY:

12, Surport Parade, Elsinby.

OFFICER 1:

And you ladies?

AISLING:

Next of kin... [thinks] Dr Jill Weatherill Ormerod, Castle View, Castle Road, Castle Crescent, Elsinby.

JULIE:

Valerie Moffat Clark, 91 Castlegate.

OFFICER 1:

Right. Well, if you could accompany us to the station, we'll take statements from all of you.

JULIE:

You're not serious?

OFFICER 1:

I am serious.

GARY:

And don't call me Shirley.

OFFICER 1:

Are you being funny, lad?

GARY:

I don't know. You tell me.

[winks at aisling, WHO REALISES THAT HE IS TRYING TO JOIN THEM]

OFFICER 1:

Right, you're coming with us too.

AISLING:

Thanks.

GARY:

No problem. Sorry I couldn't stop her calling your parents.

AISLING:

Don't worry. Things just got worse.

GARY:

Why?

AISLING gestures at the window. JONNY is staring back at her.

AISLING:

He's definitely gonna tell.

JULIE:

Anything else you want to add, Kindling?

AISLING:

Shut up, Vera.

[JONNY mouths through the window]

JONNY:

What happened?

AISLING:

Go home.

[THE OFFICER LEADS THE STUDENTS OUT OF THE RESTAURANT AND PUTS THEM IN THE CAR. JONNY WATCHES AS THEY DRIVE AWAY, AISLING GLANCES BACK]

[JONNY runs home, confused as to what to do. On the way, he bumps into MANDY, who is on her way home from the hospital]

MANDY:

Hey, watch it!

JONNY:

Sorry!

[MANDY bends down to pick up her papers. a navy blue car sails past. MANDY turns, sees the car and runs.]

CASTLE VIEW, CASTLE ROAD.

[JONNY runs up the hill past the church to his house. He bangs frantically on the door]

[JILL is the first to arrive at the door.]

JILL: Jonathan? I wasn't expecting...

JONNY: Mum, its Aisling.

JILL: What is it, come in...

JONNY: I don't know the full details but I just saw Aisling being taken away...in a police car.


End file.
